


don't blame me, love made me crazy

by bananas



Category: Cricket RPF
Genre: Fluff, I dont know what to tag, India vs South Africa 2018, M/M, Smut, Unrequited Love, and i will mention my boys triumphs, and mention of the 1992 world cup, anyway, because i am still a pakistani fan at the end of the day, dhoni is the love guru of the indian team, for any indians that arent over it, some mention of the champions trophy final, sorry but its true!, virat kohli is an arrogant little bitch, wait is that a spoiler
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-22
Packaged: 2019-03-01 18:49:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13301046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bananas/pseuds/bananas
Summary: Bhuvi felt dazed, his gaze fixed on Hardik, as the rest of team patted him on the back and congratulated him.He looked away when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned around to see MS again, but this time, there was no knowing or smug look; there was just MS with a sad smile because he understood now: there was no Hardik and Bhuvi; there was just Bhuvi.-India vs South Africa, Freedom Series 2018





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hello again i'm back with a fic! (shock, horror)
> 
> for anyone who doesn't know this is [bhuvneshwar kumar](https://www.instagram.com/p/BMW6FWEjPG-/) or bhuvi and this is [hardik pandya](https://www.instagram.com/p/Bdh668QhNBs/) and they're super cute friends and my favourites (or the only ones i like) from the indian cricket team
> 
> and for the first time, barring my super short zafar/jonny poem/fic, this isnt a soulmate fic!!!! 
> 
> this fic is set (mostly) during the first freedom test against south africa in jan 2018
> 
> this fic has a lot of urdu/hindi and i've put the translation for the dialogues in brackets but if there's anything you dont understand feel free to comment below
> 
> happy reading!

He was the first person who Bhuvi’s eyes sought after he got a wicket or took a catch or even hit a boundary, as rare as that was. He’d look at him, no matter how far away he was standing on the field or all the way in the dressing room; the rest of the team could be converging in on him, hugging, shouting, screaming, celebrating a win or a wicket and he wouldn’t even realize or care. He only had eyes for one man.

 

He thought he had been subtle about it but one day, during the match against New Zealand at Pune, MS had come up to him right after he’d stumped Guptill. Bhuvi expected the usual pat on the back since he’d just gotten a dangerous opener out but instead MS, so casually he might have been suggesting a new field change or what line he should bowl next, said the last thing Bhuvi expected his cricketing idol to say:

 

“So you and Hardik, then?”

 

Bhuvi had felt the colour drain from his face and he stumbled out a hasty reply when he managed to compose himself.

 

“What? No! What?”

 

MS didn’t say anything after that; he just gave him a knowing smile and returned to his position behind the stumps.

 

Bhuvi had tried to focus on the game after that shocking conversation and he made a comprehensive effort to not look at Hardik when he bowled Munro out next. He failed but it wasn’t his fault this time; Hardik ran straight towards him when the stumps rattled, a big smile on his face. He hugged Bhuvi but he let go too quickly as Kohli ran up to them shouting with excitement along with the rest of the Pune stadium. Bhuvi felt dazed, his gaze fixed on Hardik, as the rest of team patted him on the back and congratulated him. He looked away when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned around to see MS again, but this time, there was no knowing or smug look; there was just MS with a sad smile because he understood now: there was no Hardik and Bhuvi; there was just Bhuvi because Hardik was straight and married and even if he wasn’t straight and if he had been single, he was so so far out of Bhuvi’s league. MS didn’t say any of that though, he simply said “ _achi ball thi,_ good job” (“that was a good ball, good job”) and Bhuvi nodded his thanks, turning away because he couldn’t think about this, not now when he had a game to win for his team.

 

Hardik claimed Ross Taylor’s wicket soon after that and Bhuvi knew had no right to feel what he felt when Hardik ran across the pitch straight into Kohli’s arms, shouting, because he knew how big a wicket this was. Bhuvi ran slowly towards the team huddled together and tried not to focus on the fact that Kohli still had arms around Hardik’s waist as they revelled in the beautiful ball Hardik had just got him with. Bhuvi congratulated Hardik with his typical _“ye baat!”_ (“that’s what I’m talking about!”) and a high five, returning Hardik’s ecstatic grin as best as could. He also ignored MS who was staring at him intently, trying to catch his eye, and he returned to his position on the boundary before anyone from the team had even dispersed from the huddle.

 

It was stupid and irrational of him to feel jealous of Kohli and Hardik because they were both happy in their own marriages and relationships anyway and Bhuvi knew that, but here he was, jealous of everyone Hardik got close to, not just his wife. 

 

It wasn’t easy to avoid MS after that; he was very insistent when he wanted to be and Bhuvi had to hide in a few coat closets from time to time or pretend to be asleep on the bus or even ignore the incessant knocking on his hotel door. He didn’t need the pity or the consolation MS would want to offer, he’d much rather wallow in his own misery with a big bowl of  _ ras malai  _ and  _ kabhi kushi kabhi ghum  _ on the television of his hotel room. 

 

When the squad for the tour to South Africa was announced and Hardik had been included, Bhuvi couldn’t help but be pleased. He knew how much this would mean to Hardik and how long he’d waited for this and he also knew that now, he’d be spending the next few weeks with him. A part of him hated himself for that; the sick happiness he felt every time he saw his and Hardik’s name together on the squad list for a foreign tour. Hardik deserved a better best friend than him; someone who didn’t lust after him every time he slammed a six down the ground or when he shouted in frustration, anger or even happiness. 

 

It had gotten worse ever since MS had found out. Bhuvi’s feeling were real now; it wasn’t all inside his head anymore and it wasn’t just his secret anymore. And it didn’t help that Hardik had been closer to him as the tour began. He’d spent the flight and the entire bus ride from the airport yesterday asleep on Bhuvi’s shoulder and then even crashed in his room after dinner when the jet lag wouldn’t let him make it to his own. Bhuvi had just stood and stared at the sleeping form on his bed, wondering what he’d ever done to deserve such torture. All the anger and aggression that was Hardik’s trademark on the field vanished from his face when he slept. He looked peaceful and so very young. 

 

Bhuvi took up residence in the relatively comfortable armchair after that, resolved to spend the night there and refusing to give into the urge to get in the same bed as Hardik. He’d been nodding off, curled up in the chair, when he heard someone speak. He opened his eyes to see Hardik still lying down on the bed but half awake.

 

“What are you doing there? Come sleep here.” He wasn’t asking, he was telling but Bhuvi still couldn’t comply as much as he wanted to. 

 

“ _ Nahi, nahi, tu so ja. _ ” (“No, no, you go back to sleep.”)

 

“ _ Pagalon wali baton mat karo.  _ Come and sleep here.” (“Don’t say stupid shit. Come and sleep here.”) Hardik may have been half-asleep but Bhuvi knew better than to argue when he got like this. He gathered up the spare pillow he’d brought to the arm-chair and got into the bed next to him, as Hardik rolled over to make space for him. He laid down stiffly so he wouldn’t jostle Hardik too much but the other man didn’t seem fazed at all as he threw his arm over Bhuvi’s middle and pushed his face into the crook of his neck. Bhuvi hardly dared to breathe as Hardik shifted slightly, getting more comfortable. His heart was beating violently against his chest and he almost missed Hardik mumbling into his neck,

 

“ _ Kohli mujhe maar de ga agar tumhe sahi se neend nahi aiy. Ab so ja. _ ” (“Kohli will kill me if you don’t get proper sleep. Now go to sleep.”)

 

Bhuvi tried to not let that disappoint him too much as he closed his eyes, resisting the urge to hug Hardik back or to touch him at all. 

 

As the sun rose over Cape Town and the first light started to peek through the blinds, Bhuvi woke to find Hardik entangled around him. His legs were pressed up against Bhuvi as well, with one in between Bhuvi’s. Wide awake now, Bhuvi raised his eyes to heavens, wondering what he ever did to the  _ bhagwan _ to warrant such a fate.

 

Bhuvi had tried to act normal when Hardik woke up soon after he did and he must have been passable because he didn’t seem to suspect anything. Hardik went to his own room to freshen up before breakfast and practice, leaving Bhuvi in an empty room and bed that smelt too much like Hardik now. 

 

He’d thought it best to ignore Hardik after that, in order to avoid a repeat of last night and it was working just fine because at practice he was picked to bowl at Rohit and field with Jasprit. Hardik was somewhere far off with the coaches and Bhuvi was fine and focused on his game and not looking at him hitting a cover drive or a ramp shot or a sweep perfectly ball after ball in the nets at all. 

 

He’d gone to the indoor nets as evening fell because he wanted to put some more time in before the test in the morning and he thought he was alone in this until he heard someone adjusting the weights machine behind him. He turned around to see Hardik in a tank top and shorts, setting the weights for himself. 

 

“Oh, hey,” Bhuvi said, inwardly cursing.

 

Hardik gave him a smile and a nod as he started working out and Bhuvi looked away with difficulty. 

 

Bhuvi tried to not stare openly as Hardik positioned himself next on the bicep curler and started to lift each arm in turn. He swallowed hard and looked away, swinging his arm and getting ready to bowl again in the hopes that it would distract himself from the way Hardik’s muscles strained and or the way his dark skin glistened with sweat under the bright lights of the gym. He closed his eyes to try and clear his head. The last thing he needed right now was to get hard. 

 

“You alright there, Bhuvi?”

 

He opened his eyes to see Hardik leaned forward on the machine, looking at him concernedly. Bhuvi cleared his throat and looked down, embarrassed and realizing how strange he must’ve looked standing in the middle of the nets with his eyes closed. 

 

“ _ Haan,  _ yeah _ , theek hoon _ .” (“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine”) He looked away from Hardik’s gaze and walked back to his mark, ignoring the eyes on the back of his head. By the time he bowled the next ball, Hardik had gone back to working out. 

 

Bhuvi was quiet on the way back to the hotel and Hardik noticed.

 

“ _ Theek to ho na? Buhut hi chup chup ho aaj _ .” (“You’re alright aren’t you? You’ve been so quiet today.”) He looked worried so Bhuvi nodded immediately but didn’t offer anything more, afraid of what he might say when his guard was down. He went straight to his room after that, not bothering to stay for dinner and preferring the privacy of his room, after getting an hour and half long show of Hardik working out.

 

Hardik called out to him as Bhuvi walked ahead towards the elevators, past the door of the hotel restaurant, 

 

“ _ Kahan ja rahe ho? Khana nahin khana? _ ” (“Where are you going? Aren’t you going to eat?”)

 

Bhuvi looked back as he pressed the button for the elevator. 

 

He shook his head. “ _ Nahin. Baad mein  _ room service order  _ kar loon ga. Tum chale jao. _ ” (“No, I’ll order room service later. You go ahead.”)

 

Hardik’s eyebrows furrowed and he frowned. He looked to say something but, thankfully, the lift arrived and Bhuvi entered and had the button pressed and the doors closed before he could say anything. 

 

Bhuvi dropped his bag and headed straight for the showers when reached his room. Even though he’d already showered at the gym, the hurried, distracted wash down there wasn’t adequate and the knowledge that Hardik was in the next stall, naked and wet, made it very difficult for Bhuvi to focus on his shower then. 

 

He accepted the spray of the shower gratefully as he stepped in but soon realized that this wasn’t the cold shower he’d been hoping for. Fiddling with the knobs, he tried to change the water, that was now steaming hot, to the cold water he needed but to no avail. His shoulders dropped in defeat as the washroom steamed up and the hot water drenched him. 

 

After the last session in the gym, the last thing he needed was a hot shower. He tried to focus solely on the shower, reaching for the shampoo and body wash and desperately trying to not remember how Hardik’s arms looked in his vest when he lifted the weights one by one or how his muscles rippled and strained when he lunged forward and back. He tried to not remember how Hardik’s skin glistened on his arms, neck, face as he exerted himself or how he sounded when he lifted the barbell over his head again and again and how that might be the sounds he would make if he’d ever let Bhuvi take him in his mouth and suck him off. 

 

And with that thought, Bhuvi couldn’t ignore his hardening cock any longer and he took himself into his hand.  He tipped his head back into the spray and let the visual of Hardik, his muscles straining and his face in deep concentration as he pulled the handle on the rowing machine forwards and backwards, fill his head for a minute or two. He imagined that would be how Hardik would look if he fucked him, hard and fast with tight grips on Bhuvi arms, pinning him up against a wall and hopefully leaving marks and bruises on his skin. He let the image of Hardik looking straight into his eyes as he fucked him, Hardik saying his name over and over again as he fucked him, hard and deep, take over his mind as he came into his hand, hot and fast.

 

He watched the white stripes drip from his hand onto the shower floor and into the drain. Even in his post-orgasm high, he could imagine the mess it would do to the drainage and maybe how, like the hotel authorities in Sri Lanka, the hotel manager here in Cape Town might broach the subject with the team management and then Virat would be forced to lecture the boys again on not jacking off in the shower. Hardik had claimed it had been him when Virat gathered them for a meeting about it in Sri Lanka and he smirked when he said it as the rest of the boys laughed. Bhuvi had just blushed and ducked his head, trying his very best not to get hard while imagining Hardik getting himself off in the shower. It had actually been him who’d actually gotten off in the showers after a particularly intense session with Hardik in the nets but he wasn’t about to come clean about it in front of everyone, especially Hardik. No one would dare make fun of Hardik about it but they wouldn’t let Bhuvi off that easily. 

 

After the meeting, Bhuvi had tried to avoid getting off in the shower but once he’d stood under the spray and imagined Hardik jacking off in the shower in the room just next door, he lost all semblance of self control. He imagined Hardik would put one hand against the wall and another around himself and shut his eyes and let his head fall down and just let his hand move quicker and quicker and that, maybe, he’d come with Bhuvi on his mind and his name on his lips. He’d come quickly then and he’d done exactly what Virat had said not to just an hour ago and yet, somehow, he didn’t find himself regretting it.

 

When Bhuvi got out of the shower, he was starting to regret the decision to skip dinner so he wrapped only a towel around his waist and ordered some room service. He had just put the phone down when he heard a knock on his door. Gripping his towel tighter, he opened the door to find Hardik standing there with a grin on his face. 

 

“Hey,” he said, pushing past Bhuvi to enter the room before Bhuvi had a chance to reply. 

 

Bhuvi just turned to stare at him as he jumped on to the bed and laid back against the pillows with arms behind his bed, still smiling at him.    
  


Bhuvi raised his eyebrows and shut the door, very conscious of the fact that he was practically naked in front of the man he’d just imagined fucking him in the shower. 

 

“What are you doing here?” he asked in a measured tone.

 

“What do you mean?  _ Mein apne dost se milne nahin aa sakta hoon kya? _ ” (“What do you mean? Can’t I come meet my friend?)

 

“ _ Aa sakte ho. Mein ne yeh tou nahin bola, _ ” (You can. I didn’t say that,”) he said, trying to keep his tone neutral and not letting it betray anything.

 

Bhuvi turned to his suitcase on the floor to pull out some clothes to wear, gripping his towel with his life and praying that it wouldn’t fall and make this situation a million times worse than it already was. 

 

After successfully locating an old t-shirt and sweats, he stood up straight again and was headed for the washroom when Hardik spoke,

 

“By the way, you should know that your towel isn’t covering your backside very well.”

 

Bhuvi froze, cursing every entity under the sun inwardly. He didn’t dare turn around, knowing that Hardik would be giving him his trademark smirk. 

 

He heard him laugh before he said, “ _ Theek hai _ . You have a cute butt.” (“It’s okay. You have a cute butt.”) He laughed again when he said that and Bhuvi felt his cheeks colour as he practically ran to the bathroom and slammed the door. He took a deep breath when he was safely inside, trying to steady his heart rate and convinced that that didn’t just happen because  _ bhagwaan _ really couldn’t be this cruel to him.

 

He composed himself enough to put his clothes on but he didn’t leave the bathroom till he heard a knock on his room door, signalling that his food was here. He ignored Hardik stretched on the bed still with a shit-eating grin on face now and opened the door for the waiter. He continued to ignore him and sat down as far as he could from him on the bed as he unpacked the vegetable curry he’d ordered. Hardik wasn’t deterred by the cold-shoulder, apparently, because he moved across the bed to where Bhuvi was sat and started opening the food containers as well.

 

“What did you get for me?” 

 

Bhuvi frowned and answered before he could stop himself, “Why would I get anything for you? You just ate.”

 

He broke a away a piece of  _ roti  _  and wrapped it around a bit of curry and was lifting it to his mouth when Hardik snatched the bite he made out of his hand and ate it. 

 

“So? I’m still hungry. And they didn’t have this downstairs,” he said with his mouth full.

  
Bhuvi sighed and thought about moving the food out of his reach but he didn’t and instead, placed the plate of  _ rotis  _ and the curry in between them on the bed. Hardik gave him another smile and Bhuvi smiled hesitantly back, hating himself for how weak he was in front of him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> after the first test and right before the second. hardik has trouble dealing with the loss and kohli makes a decision. bhuvi just tries to cope with it all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi to celebrate the scare being over, here is a long-overdue chapter for the lovely kagss. thank you for the wonderful prompt and praise. i hope you like this
> 
> this has been very roughly beta'd since my beta is half asleep lmao anyway please let me know if there are any mistakes. happy reading!

Hardik didn’t leave his room for 2 days after they lost the first test. Bhuvi went to check up on him after he didn’t come out for the team lunch on the first day but after standing in front of the door, knocking and calling for 15 minutes with no response, he understood that Hardik needed to be alone. He still paused in front of Hardik’s room door each day as he left for practise or for food, willing himself to resist the urge to knock and to tell him to come out. He even broached the subject with Virat on the second day when he was bowling at him the nets but Virat brushed him off easily, telling him to just focus on his bowling.

 

Hardik finally emerged from his room on the third day, just as Bhuvi was heading down for breakfast. He didn’t seem to notice Bhuvi at first as he kept his head down, locking his room door.

 

“Hey,” Bhuvi said quietly

 

Hardik spun around quickly but relaxed when he saw it was him.

 

“Oh. Hey,” he said, running a hand through his hair. It might have just been only 2 days since Bhuvi last saw him but he was barely able to recognize Hardik. His hair was unwashed and unmade, his eyes were bloodshot and drawn and if the bags under his eyes were anything to go by, he hadn’t been sleeping well.

 

Bhuvi’s heart broke to see him like this. Hardik looked down under his stare and turned away towards direction of the elevators.

 

 _“Kese ho?”_ (“How are you?”) Bhuvi asked hesitantly.

 

He was met with silence initially as Hardik began to walk towards the elevators without replying and Bhuvi followed him.

 

“I’m fine,” he said, short and mechanical. He still didn’t meet Bhuvi’s eye as he pressed the elevator button and readjusted his bag, looking straight ahead at the closed elevator doors.

 

Bhuvi nodded, unsure of what to say next.

 

 _“Tum bohot dinon se practise pe nahi aa rahe ho. Sab kuch theekh hai na?”_ (You haven’t showed up to practise for so many days? Everything is fine, right?”)

 

Hardik didn’t reply again; he just walked into the elevator as it dinged to signal it’s arrival and Bhuvi followed him in again.

 

 _“Haan. Sab kuch theekh hai.”_ (Yes. Everything is fine.”)

 

Bhuvi wasn’t convinced but he stayed silent, knowing Hardik didn’t like to be pushed to talk. As he walked towards the hotel restaurant he noticed Hardik head towards the exit of the hotel room, towards the stadium.

 

“Where are you going?” he called after him.

 

Hardik didn’t turn around; he just gave him a curt, “Training,” and continued walking out.

 

Bhuvi frowned as he entered the restaurant, spotting his teammates at the buffet table. Ishant was piling _parathas_ on _parathas_ on his plate as Jasprit looked on, clearly disgusted.

 

 _“Tumhari diet main_ greasy, oily _parathay likhey ve hain kya?”_ (“Does your diet say you have to eat greasy, oily _parathas_ ?”) Jasprit eyed Ishant’s plate as Ishant added a generous portion of _halwa_ to his plate as well.

 

Ishant just shrugged, moving on to the potato dishes as Jasprit turned to Bhuvi and made a face. Bhuvi gave him a forced smile in reply and grabbed a plate. Jasprit gave him a questioning look which Bhuvi opted to ignore and instead tried to focus on his food and trying to remember his diet plan for the day.

 

“Hardik _kahan hai_?” (“Where’s Hardik?”) Jasprit asked him in a low tone as he took generous helpings from the fruit salad bowl.

 

Bhuvi shrugged. “Practice _ke liye gaya hai._ ” (“He’s gone for practice.”)

 

“ _Abhi?_ Practice _to dupaihr mein hai._ ” (“Right now? But practice isn’t till afternoon.”)

 

Bhuvi shrugged again and Jasprit might’ve sensed his discomfort because he swiftly changed the subject to criticism of Ishant’s food choices.

  


-

  


Bhuvi didn’t see Hardik again till he reached practice in the afternoon and after he was done late in the evening, he waited around to see if Hardik was done as well. Despite being here since morning, Hardik didn’t seem to show any signs of stopping, making the coach and each bowler bowl at him constantly and then shifting to the machine when their bowling quotas for the day finished.

 

He was silent, stoic the whole day, practising almost robotically and not displaying any emotions at any time, even if Bhuvi trapped him in front with lbw or shattered his stumps. He just picked the ball up, readjusted the stumps if they needed it and handed the ball back to him with a blank stare and without a word.

 

It scared Bhuvi to see Hardik like this. It was just like after the champions trophy final; when Hardik had been angry initially, shouting and screaming and breaking stuff, Bhuvi had calmed him down, holding him back from hitting Jadeja, but after the last Indian wicket fell, he went limp in Bhuvi’s hands. He didn’t say a word after that, didn’t betray any emotion on his face as they saw their rivals lift the trophy. He didn’t even spare Jadeja a glance when he came into the room again and he gave only bank, empty replies every time MS or Bhuvi or anyone spoke to him.

 

He didn’t come out of that trance till weeks later, after the fifth ODI against Sri Lanka when he came out of the pavillion to congratulate Bhuvi on his maiden 5 wicket haul with a wide smile on his face, looking happier than Bhuvi had seen him be in so long. Bhuvi smiled back, unsure of what had brought his friend back but relieved all the same.

 

But here they were again. Hardik had gone back into his shell after this loss against South Africa and Bhuvi was a spectator to his friend’s spiral once more. Hardik ignored him, hitting ball after ball as Bhuvi watched on, standing next to the bowling machine and not saying a word either. Finally, when the sun had set and the machine ran out of balls, Hardik stopped, straightening up and relaxing his arms finally. Bhuvi stared right at him, waiting for him to meet his eye, as Hardik untied his pads and removed his helmet. When he was down to just shorts and a t-shirt, Bhuvi went and picked up the pads for him, his gaze still fixed on Hardik as Hardik looked anywhere but him. He just picked his bat and helmet up and followed Bhuvi towards the hotel entrance.

 

Bhuvi went straight for the elevator, forgoing the restaurant door open for dinner where his team was probably gathered now and Hardik pressed the button to close the elevator door behind them. They didn’t talk till they reached Bhuvi’s room door and he unlocked it, expecting Hardik to do the same with his but Hardik stood stationary and instead followed him in to Bhuvi’s hotel room. Bhuvi placed the pads and bags near the entrance and Hardik placed his bat and helmet with it.

 

Bhuvi broke the silence finally.

 

“Do you want to call for food?” he asked.

 

Hardik looked at him for what felt like the first time that day.

 

“Yeah. Get me that curry you got the other day?” He said that last statement as a question.

 

Bhuvi nodded and ordered it as Hardik perched uncomfortably at the edge of the bed.

 

When he set the phone down, Bhuvi went and sat on the bed, against the headboard and switched the tv on, setting it some indian movie channel playing a Sharukh Khan blockbuster. Hardik came and sat next to them after a while and they watched yet another dance sequence take place on screen.

 

“You played well in the last match,” Hardik said, unexpectedly.

 

Bhuvi gave him a small smile and nodded. “ _Tum ne bhi._ ” (“You as well.”)

 

Hardik huffed out a short, disbelieving laugh when he said that.

 

“What?” Bhuvi asked, confused.

 

“ _Mein ne kahan se acha khela?”_ (“How did I play well?”) Hardik said, his voice laced with disbelief.

 

“Hardik, you were amazing in the first innings and you bowled brilliantly in the second innings. Don’t sell yourself short,” Bhuvi said, shocked that Hardik would even think that.

 

Hardik just scoffed, turning his attention back to the TV.

 

“You were! How can you think otherwise?”

 

“Because we lost and if I had just-” Hardik broke off, frustrated and banging his fist on his knee hard.

 

“You can’t blame yourself, Hardik,” Bhuvi said softly.

 

Hardik crossed his arms, still staring resolutely at the television.

 

“Yes I can,” he said in hard voice.

 

When he spoke again, his voice shook slightly.

 

“If I hadn’t played that stupid shot in the second innings and gotten out for a fucking score of 1-” Hardik broke off again,  closing his eyes and taking a deep breath to steady himself.

 

“Okay, stop. Look at me.” Bhuvi paused waiting patiently until Hardik begrudgingly looked at him. He then met his eye and said confidently, “Whatever happened out there was on _all_ of us. The whole team failed so it’s all of our faults. Stop blaming yourself.”

 

“It's not-it’s not that easy,” Hardik said frustratedly.

 

“I know, but we tried. We tried to win but they were better than us on the day and they stepped up. But we won't let them do that again, right?”

 

Hardik begrudgingly nodded although he didn’t look convinced and started to watch the movie again, signalling the end of the discussion. They watched the movie together in silence after that and the only sound in the room after that was the room service waiter outside the door and the TV. Bhuvi opened his mouth a few times to say something but he stopped himself each time.

 

Towards the end of the movie, Bhuvi’s eyes began to close and the exhaustion of the day’s practice began to overcome him. He blinked rapidly, struggling to open his eyes. Hardik must’ve noticed because he unfolded the duvet and threw it over his legs.

 

“ _Chalo, laito or so ja.”_ (Lie down and sleep now, come on.”)

 

Bhuvi just blinked sleepily in reply and lay down on his stomach as Hardik threw the rest of the duvet over him. He felt a hand on his back, rubbing up and down soothingly. He sighed, contentedly.

 

“ _Tu bhi so ja.”_

 

Hardik didn't reply; his hand just stayed on Bhuvi’s back, a warm, welcome weight, till Bhuvi dozed off, with the TV muted but still on in the background.

  


-

  


He awoke the next morning to an empty bed and it shouldn't have surprised him but the feeling of disappointment still lay heavy on his heart as he turned to see the now-cold, rumpled side of the bed where Hardik had sat the night before.

 

He tried not to dwell on it too much as he got ready to face the day ahead. Kohli had called a team meeting now that they were close to the next test, to announce the changes in the squad. He had a habit of changing the squad up before a new test and Bhuvi had a feeling that this one was no different. However, for once he felt confident that he'd cemented his place in the side after his performance in the last test and Hardik was also looking pretty secure after his 99 and his bowling so he wasn't too worried about the meeting.

 

He reached there earlier than most; Kohli was already there and in deep conversation with the coaches but no one else was so he went sat on one of the small desks behind them, lifting up onto it and swinging his legs, waiting for the meeting to start.

 

Nobody noticed when Hardik walked in after everyone else and stood right at the back but Bhuvi, still perched on the desk behind Virat, saw him, even as he hunched in the corner, looking down, lips set in a tight line. Bhuvi gave him a small smile which he didn’t return.

 

“Okay, listen up,” Virat began. “So we all know we weren't up to the mark in the first test at all and we have to come back strongly now in the second one, to keep the series alive.”

 

He paused, taking a look at the paper in front of him, which what Bhuvi assumed to be the finalized team for the second test.

 

 _“Iss hi liye,_ the coaches and I have decided on a few changes for the second test.” (“This is why, the coaches and I have decided on a few changes for the second test.”) He paused again, probably for effect this time, as everyone waited for him to announce who would get axed.

 

“KL Rahul will be in for Shikhar, Patel is coming in to replace Saha and Sharma is coming in for Bhuvi.”

 

Bhuvi’s eyes grew wide as Jasprit voiced his disbelief loudly from the back.

 

“What?” he asked, clearly shocked. “I didn’t know you were injured,” he followed up, looking at Bhuvi.

 

“I’m not,” Bhuvi replied slowly, trying to process Virat’s words.

 

Rohit, who was standing next to Virat, leaned towards him said in a quieter tone that only those around him could hear, including Bhuvi.

 

“Virat, _ye kya kia hay tum ne? Bhuvi ko kyun nikala hay? Aur Saha ko bhi? Uss nein tu abhi MS ka record tora hai yaar,”_ (“Virat, what have you done? Why have you taken Bhuvi out? And Saha too? Man, he just broke MS’s record,”) Rohit asked him, confusion clear on his face.

 

Virat just gave him an indifferent look. “This my decision, Rohit and it's final. Meeting dismissed.” was all he said as he walked out of the room, ignoring everyone's shocked gazes, including Bhuvi’s betrayed expression. Hardik, who had been silent in the corner this whole time, followed Kohli out with narrowed eyes and clenched fists. Everyone stared at each other in the meeting room, unsure of what to do next after these shocking decision.

 

“ _Waise_ , Ishant _kahan hai?”_ (“By the way, where is Ishant?”) Jasprit posed the question to everyone in the room but was met with blank stares and shrugs until Ashwin replied.

 

“ _Mein ne usse subha mein nashte ke liye jaatey ve dekha tha,”_ (“I saw him going down for breakfast in the morning,”) Ashwin said, sounding confused. “ _Magar woh to do ghante pehle tha.”_ (“But that was 2 hours ago.”)

 

“He didn't even show up for the meeting?” Jasprit asked. “And that's who Virat thinks should replace Bhuvi?” He huffed out a short, disbelieving laugh and walked away, still shaking his head.

 

Everyone drifted out of the meeting room towards the restaurant for breakfast eventually, whispering furiously between themselves about how Patel had dropped 6 easy catches at the last practise and Saha hadn’t dropped any and whether Virat had finally lost it if he thought Ishant could do a better job than Bhuvi. They gave Bhuvi and Saha a consolatory pat on the back as they walked out, with some adding words of comfort and hugs. Soon, Bhuvi was left alone in the empty meeting room and all he was able to hear in his head was “Sharma is coming in for Bhuvi” over and over again.

 

He left the room eventually, wandering off in the corridors, wondering what he did to piss Virat off so badly or where his performance in the first test went wrong. He was deep in his thoughts when he heard loud voices coming from the far end of the corridor, where the coaches and the captain had their suites.

 

He stopped, recognizing the voice immediately and didn’t turn the corner towards it; instead, he paused against the edge, listening in.

 

“ _Tumhara dimagh kharab ho gaya hai kya?”_ He couldn’t see Hardik but his voice was shaking with anger, reminiscent of his anger the day of the champions trophy final, after he’d gotten run out.

 

“Hardik. Don’t.” Kohli sounded tense as well and Bhuvi’s heart was in his throat; he had a feeling about where this was headed.

 

 _“Nahin, nahin. Tum batao, na._ What reason could you _possibly_ have to take Bhuvi out of them team?” (“No, no _._ You tell me _._ What reason could you _possibly_ have to take Bhuvi out of them team?” Hardik’s voice was low, dangerous and as terrible as the situation was, it made something stir in the pit of Bhuvi’s stomach. _“Wo tumhara best bowler hai aur tum usse_ confidence _dene aur us ke_ efforts appreciate karne _ke bajai usse achi performance karne ke baad agle match se_ exclude _kar rahe ho. Tu_ clearly _pagal ho gaya.”_ (“He’s your best bowler and instead of giving him confidence and appreciating his efforts, you’re sacking him after a good performance. You’ve clearly gone mad.”)

 

 _“Mein captain hoon-”_ ("I'm captain-")

 

 _“Haan haan. Tu captain hai. Hum sab ko pata hai,”_ (“Yes yes. You're the captain. We all know,”) Hardik scoffed. _“Arre bhenchod, Bhuvi ne tumhare saray batsman see behtr batting ki thi iss test mein. Tum se behtr batting ki thi iss nein. Aur woh ek bowler hai. Us ne bowling achi ki, batting achi ki aur fielding achi ki. Tujhe aur kya chahiye iss se?”_ (“Motherfucker, Bhuvi batted better than all your batsman. He batted better than you as well. And he's a bowler. He bowled well, batted well and fielded well. What more do you want from him?”)

 

Kohli was silent and after a few seconds, Bhuvi heard a door slam and he assumed that was Kohli’s dramatic exit. He heard Hardik’s approaching footsteps and realized too late that he would be caught eavesdropping. Hardik emerged from the corner looking a little more alive than he had when Bhuvi saw him walk into the meeting room.

 

“Hey,” Hardik said casually, as if it was not at all surprising to find Bhuvi hiding at the corner, listening in.

 

“H-hey,” Bhuvi said, stumbling slightly over his greeting.

 

“You wanna go for breakfast?”

 

“Uh, sure?” he answered, hesitantly.

 

Hardik then walked off, still acting like Bhuvi hadn’t just overheard him fight Kohli to defend Bhuvi. Bhuvi followed him, instinctively, almost tripping over his own feet to catch up to him.

 

When he did catch up to him, he opened his mouth to say something, anything about Kohli, the fight he’d just witnessed, Hardik defending him or even about him getting dropped. Nothing came out, however and he just decided to stay quiet then. For now.

 

-

 

Bhuvi attended practice after breakfast while Hardik went to the gym. He was trying to act as normal as possible and ignoring the sympathetic looks from everyone as walked in. He was determined to bowl his best that day and to make Kohli regret the decision to drop him and he even voluntarily practised his batting with the coaches and had Jasprit and Shami take turns in bowling at him for nearly 2 hours.

 

It was late afternoon when Hardik finally showed up to practice. He was fresh out of the shower from the gym and Bhuvi noticed this as he lost his focus and swung, nicking Jasprit’s ball, making an easy catch for first slip. Hardik’s hair was still wet but he’d run a hand through them to roughly style them for the first time in days and the sight of Hardik standing there in just a tank top and shorts and glistening hair and skin was enough to make Bhuvi’s mouth to go dry and his brain to lose focus.

 

Hardik smiled at him from the edge of the nets when he caught Bhuvi’s elongated stare and Bhuvi, embarrassed at being caught, gave him a forced smile and looked away quickly to where Jasprit was looking at him questioningly, with a raised eyebrow. He ignored him, tapping his bat on the ground twice to signal that he was ready for the next ball. Jasprit gave him one more confused look and ran up to bowl. Bhuvi smacked it straight beautifully and with perfect timing and he smiled to himself. He heard a slow clap and looked up to see Hardik clapping and he couldn’t help but grin widely, and genuinely this time, at him.

 

-

 

Hardik disappeared off to train somewhere else after that and Bhuvi didn’t see him on the way back to the hotel either as he made him way back after the sun had set. When he reached his hotel room, however, he found the door unlocked, although he was sure he’d locked it before leaving.

 

He walked in to find Hardik in his bed, sitting comfortably, watching TV.

 

“How did you unlock my door?” He asked finally after 5 minutes of staring at Hardik from the doorway and debating what to do.

 

“I had a key card made for myself,” Hardik replied, not taking his eyes of the TV where he was watching some cricket highlights.

 

“That’s creepy,” Bhuvi said slowly, making his way into the room.

 

Hardik shrugged, smiling slightly now.

 

“What are you watching then?” Bhuvi asked, taking his shoes off and getting into bed next to him.

 

“India vs Zimbabwe highlights. 1992 world cup.”

 

Bhuvi made a face. “ _Kuch aur dekhne key liye nahin mila?”_ (“You couldn’t find anything else to watch?”)

 

Hardik merely shrugged again, offering Bhuvi the cheetos he’d just opened.

 

A comfortable silence settled over them but the eventful morning wasn’t out of Bhuvi’s mind and he couldn’t help but bring it up.

 

“You didn't have to do that,” he said finally as Sachin hit another six against the Zimbabwean bowler in the match highlights.

 

“Do what?” Hardik said innocently. However, Bhuvi wasn't falling for it.

 

“You didn't have to defend me against Virat.”

 

Hardik was quiet for a while. He turned to look at him.

 

“You don't deserve to be dropped. Virat _pagal hai._ I was just letting him know that. That's all.” (“You don't deserve to be dropped. Virat is crazy _._ I was just letting him know that. That's all.”) Although his voice was hard, it eased to causal towards the end and he shrugged, as if it was as simple as that.

 

Bhuvi shook his head. “No. You didn't have to do that. You shouldn't have done that.”

 

(Because now that you have done that, those feelings that I have been trying to avoid for years now are growing and I can't ignore them any longer. Because now that you've done that, I can't forget how you looked defending me in front of everyone _._ Because now that you've done that, despite the fact that you're married and straight and way out of my league, I can't help but imagine _what if_  that wasn't just you defending a friend but someone you really care about. Because you've done that I can't stop thinking that maybe, just maybe, we could be more than just friends.)

 

“Well, I did,” was all he said, as if it was the most normal thing in the world to fight Virat Kohli in a foreign hotel corridor over someone's selection. However, Bhuvi couldn't avoid how that fight made him feel: how amazing it felt to be defended by Hardik, how hot he was when he got angry at Virat over him dropping Bhuvi, how he thought Bhuvi batted well even though he got out playing a stupid shot. It almost made him feel fine about being dropped for the second test. Almost. But not quite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> okay so here are some translations for urdu/hindi words i've used that weren't in dialogues  
>  _ras malai:_ sweet milk dumplings. it's a desi dessert and very good comfort food imo  
>  _kabhi kushi kabhi ghum:_ a bollywood classic movie. iconic. amazing. go watch it with subtitles if you must! it is amazing  
>  _roti:_ pita bread 
> 
> thanks for reading!
> 
>  


End file.
